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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27227092">Echo</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Streetlamp_Sunset/pseuds/Streetlamp_Sunset'>Streetlamp_Sunset</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Flower Language Soulmate AU [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5 bedsheets +1 spreadsheet, 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Aromantic Jake, Implied/Referenced Jake/Stevie/David, Language of Flowers, Love Confessions, M/M, Magical Realism, Mutual Masturbation, Polyamory, Queerplatonic Relationships, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tattoos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:49:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,930</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27227092</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Streetlamp_Sunset/pseuds/Streetlamp_Sunset</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you want me to look?” Stevie asked. David took it from her hands before she could damage it. He was still traumatized by the way she shook her Chrismukkah presents. </p><p>“No, I don't want you to look.”</p><p>A little peak couldn’t hurt. David pulled back the corner of the tissue paper. His heart caught in his throat, emotion swelling in his chest.</p><p>“What is it?” Jake asked. </p><p>“Um,” David cleared his throat, cradling the bag against his body, “it’s the receipt from our first sale at the store.” </p><p> </p><p>5 bed sheets + 1 spreadsheet</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer &amp; Stevie Budd &amp; David Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Flower Language Soulmate AU [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788787</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Coriander, Hyacinth, Raspberry, Sweet Pea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The rating is for the second chapter, otherwise it's G/T</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David stepped around the cleaning cart and passed Stevie the other side of a top sheet. It unfurled it the air, a large white bloom hanging between them. The separation made it easier to tell her.</p><p>“Um, so I went to incorporate today," David said, "and I may have accidentally marked an echo." He’d left a spray of coriander - his own colorless lines - curled over the outside of Patrick’s wrist. </p><p>The sheet settled on the bed. His fingertips tingled, electric where Patrick’s skin had bloomed beneath his touch. </p><p>“And,” Stevie asked, "did you apologize?" David tucked the corner under the edge of the mattress with practiced motions. "David."</p><p>"Well, how was I supposed to know?” he asked, throwing his hands up and arching away, “he just stuck out his little hand." </p><p>Patrick hadn’t looked like he wanted an apology, gaze lingering on the flower even after they moved to fill out paperwork. That teasing smile burrowed into his chest. David’s whole body buzzed with a feeling he refused to examine further.</p><p>“He shook your hand?" Stevie asked pointedly. Echos didn’t produce their own soulmarks. It was unusual, that Patrick had reached for him, vulnerable to whatever impression David might've held.</p><p>"Um, yes," David shook a pillow into its pillowcase. Stevie narrowed her eyes.</p><p>"Huh." </p><p>"I know," David tossed it onto the bed, voice pitched high. </p><p>“With what flower, David?” Stevie hummed, knowing. </p><p>He didn’t appreciate her tone. They finished making the bed, a smirk on Stevie’s downturned face. </p><p>“Coriander,” he admitted. <em>Hidden worth. Lust. </em></p><p>"Oh my god, David," her shoulders shook with silent laughter. Fantastic. There were two of them.</p>
<hr/><p>David stood unpacking a shipment of linens when the bell over the door chimed. <em> We’re not open </em> sat on the tip of his tongue, but something in the footfalls gave him pause. They were steadier than Roland’s aimless meandering. David glanced up to meet Patrick’s eyes, warm honey brown in the evening light.</p><p>“I got the money,” Patrick said in that steady, confident tone. It sent a wave of desire pouring down David’s spine. Apparently, he was developing a fucking competency kink. Not that he would get to do anything about it. Patrick had been careful not to touch him since the first time.</p><p>“The business grants?” David asked, as if there were some other money Patrick could possibly be referring to. David bit his tongue so hard it stung. He was almost relieved by the boundary. Patrick made him feel more than a little unraveled, carefully curated image chipping away. His words tumbled, eager and sharp, out of his mouth without permission.</p><p>Fortunately, Patrick didn’t take the opportunity to fuck with him. He simply nodded, grinning with his whole face. </p><p>Look, but don’t touch. David couldn’t hurt himself losing something he never had in the first place. He repeated it so often he almost believed it was true.</p><p>“Yes, David,” Patrick said, “there should be more than enough to cover the start up cost and tide us over for a reasonable length of time without profit.” It hadn’t escaped him that Patrick deliberately avoided specifying the number of months. He reached into the box David had opened to stock next.</p><p>“What are you doing?” </p><p>“Oh, I work here now,” Patrick held David’s gaze. He lifted a stack of sheets from the thick packing paper, “Where do these go?”</p><p>David bit back a grin, gesturing to the shelf behind him, “third from the top.”</p><p>That night, as he lined up his Rick Owens beside Stevie's battered high tops, he found a hyacinth had grown in the hollow of his ankle. </p>
<hr/><p>Jake clapped a hand on his shoulder as Patrick’s car crunched over the gravel drive of his shop. Wednesday was movie night since Stevie had the Thursday morning shift off and Jake basically set his own schedule. A bed sheet hung tacked to the garage door. Blankets and pillows lined the bed of Jake’s truck, a projector propped on its roof. David had, somewhat incoherently, extended an invitation when Patrick asked if he had any plans for his birthday.</p><p>“Breathe, David,” Stevie flicked a pretzel at him from where she lay leaning against Jake’s chest. </p><p>Jake had a choke of raspberry brambles around his throat and a knot of sweet pea over his heart. He wasn’t shy about showing his marks, equally unbothered with displaying the rest of his bare skin. David had been unsurprised by how well they all fit.</p><p>“Did you find the place okay?” David asked as Patrick made his way over. </p><p>Patrick set a six pack and a blue paper bag on the tailgate with the rest of their snacks. A present. It matched his button up.</p><p>“Yes, David,” he smiled, “your instructions were very thorough.” Stevie snorted around a mouthful of beer. Rude.</p><p>“Come on up, man,” Jake said. There wasn’t a ton of room, but they had made an effort to condense. David did not think about how Patrick would fit just fine between his legs.</p><p>“Oh, um,” Patrick fiddled with the cuff of his jacket. David grimaced, he probably could’ve been more specific about their whole outdoor drive-in situation, but he was already feeling self conscious about the volume of directions he had given. Stevie cut in before he could apologize.</p><p>“You can borrow this if you want,” she held out her sweatshirt. It was an offensively ugly grey thing that had originally been some shade of blue. David suspected she kept it - despite having full access to his closet - just to irritate him. That, or the fact that it had been worn incredibly soft. </p><p>“That would be great,” Patrick said, reaching up to take it from her, “thanks, Stevie.” </p><p>Stevie shrugged, shaking a handful of chocolate pretzels into her hand, “Jake is basically a space heater.” He grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her closer.</p><p>David caught a riot of blooms on Patrick’s upper arm as he changed, but it was too dark to make them out. He lay his button up in his backseat before climbing into the truck bed to lean against the wheel. As the night went on, Patrick migrated closer, the ridged way he held himself slowly draining away. </p><p>“Hey, could I use your bathroom?” Patrick asked somewhere towards the end of the second movie.</p><p>“It’s unlocked,” Jake said, nodding to the door off to the side, “all the way in the back.”</p><p>“Thanks."</p><p>Stevie turned to David as soon as it shut behind him, “He brought you a present. I didn't even get you a present.”</p><p>“No, I noticed that,” David said, downing a swallow of beer. He grimaced, upper lip curling. They were going to have to restock Jake's fridge with a few bottles of wine from the store.</p><p>“Do you want me to look?” Stevie asked. David took it from her hands before she could damage it. He was still traumatized by the way she shook her Chrismukkah presents. </p><p>“No, I don't want you to look.”</p><p>A little peak couldn’t hurt. David pulled back the corner of the tissue paper. His heart caught in his throat, emotion swelling in his chest.</p><p>“What is it?” Jake asked. </p><p>“Um,” David cleared his throat, cradling the bag against his body, “it’s the receipt from our first sale at the store.” </p><p>“Oh my god, David,” Stevie said, “go talk to him.” She nudged him with the corner of her converse.</p><p>“Ew, Stevie,” David flicked the tip of her shoes, “these pants cost more than our rent.” </p><p>“Do you want me to pause the movie?” Jake asked, like him following Patrick was a foregone conclusion. David shook his head, already moving to slide to the ground.</p><p>“No, um, thank you,” he had seen this movie a dozen times. It was a Julia Roberts vehicle. He was having a hard time remembering which one. David had spent most of the night watching the light play over Patrick’s face, distracted by his loud, warm laughter. “Go ahead, put on one of your awful horror movies.” </p><p>That had probably been Stevie’s intention all along. David couldn’t bring himself to care.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Flower Language:<br/>Coriander - hidden worth, lust<br/>Hyacinth - playfulness, consistency, sincerity<br/>Raspberry - kindness, love, protection, fertility, growth and adaptability<br/>Sweet Pea - bliss, pleasure</p><p>Thank you very, very much for reading!!<br/>❤️ Sunset</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Bachelor’s Button</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: Mutual Masturbation</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David found Patrick in Jake's kitchenette reaching for a glass on the top shelf. David took a moment to admire the curve of his ass and the strip of exposed skin just above his jeans before walking over to help. </p><p>“Let me get that for you,” David said, standing at Patrick's back. He was close enough to breathe in the scent of the curl defining conditioner he had finally convinced Patrick to use, feel the heat of him through Stevie’s sweatshirt. It was driving David a little wild. </p><p>“Thank you,” Patrick shivered as he turned around. David was careful to make sure their fingers didn’t brush, even as he stepped forward, sliding a leg between Patrick’s. David smirked, watching Patrick’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. </p><p>“You’re welcome,” he leaned closer, setting a hand on either side of Patrick’s head. The cabinet was glossy, smooth beneath his palms. </p><p>“David,” Patrick’s eyes flickered to his mouth. He set the glass down, tilting his head up. Patrick sucked in a sharp breath, “I’m sorry. I can’t. I want to kiss you. Fuck, David, I want you so bad.” </p><p>“It’s okay,” David said softly. Patrick let out a bitter laugh. </p><p>“It’s not,” his hands shook. He slid them deep into his pockets.</p><p>“What if I don’t touch you?” David asked.</p><p>Patrick’s face scrunched up in thought. It was deeply unfair how endearing that was. David longed to cup his jaw and kiss that confused little wrinkle away.</p><p>“Um, are you suggesting we leave our clothes on?” Patrick asked, “because I’ve done that before, but this is Stevie’s sweatshirt and I didn’t bring a change of pants.”</p><p>“I was thinking more along the lines of getting you naked and watching you get yourself off,” David said. </p><p>Patrick’s eyes fluttered and he honest to god whined.</p><p>“Is that a yes?” David asked.</p><p>“Yes, David,” Patrick answered, something heavy in his voice.</p><p>"Tell me if what I'm doing isn't okay or you want me to stop," David said. Patrick nodded. "I need to hear it out loud," David said, "it’s important to me."</p><p>Patrick's expression softened, "I will, I promise."</p><p>"Get on the bed, Patrick," David said. A flush spread over Patrick's cheeks at the command in his voice. David stepped away to flip on the low light of the lamps mounted on either side of the headboard. He slid the armchair to face the bed while Patrick settled against the pillows. </p><p>“Clothes off,” David said, “I want to see you.”</p><p>Patrick paused with his fingers on the zip of Stevie’s sweatshirt. David held his eyes, trying to project reassurance. Patrick let out a slow breath, tugging the hoodie and his t-shirt over his head in one go.</p><p>A mess of blooms were clustered on Patrick's right bicep. The styles clashed, edges pressed together in a jagged sleeve. All the horrible things people had ever thought of him, coagulated on his skin. The rest of his body was alarmingly bare. David's chest ached. </p><p>"It's okay, David," Patrick's fingertips brushed over the coriander on his wrist. A lump formed, words heavy and thick in his throat.</p><p>"That's my line." </p><p>Patrick laughed, sharp with relief. His mouth curved into a small smile as he rolled to face him. The sound settled into silence and he dragged his gaze over David’s body. Heat flared in his gut as Patrick palmed the bulge of his cock through his jeans.</p><p>“I want to see you too.” </p><p>David obliged, lifting his own sweater over his head. He pushed down any lingering self consciousness as Patrick eagerly searched his skin. “Beautiful,” Patrick murmured.</p><p>David ducked his head and worked his boxers and joggers to the floor. His cock jut from his body, flushed and hard. Patrick bit his lip, drinking him in with a hungry expression. </p><p>“Fuck, David,” he breathed. </p><p>David leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from Jake’s side table as Patrick kicked off his jeans. Patrick grinned, noticing the label. It was an all organic lube from the Bergstein farm they’d started carrying a few weeks ago. There had been significant product testing involved on David’s end and Patrick had teased him about it for days.</p><p>“Show me," David said as he wrapped a slick hand around his own cock. </p><p>Patrick watched the movement of David’s fist, looking a little transfixed as he slid a hand down his chest. He wrapped one hand around his dick while the other pinched and rolled his nipples. </p><p>“David,” Patrick panted.</p><p>“Does that feel good?” David asked, stroking himself quick and tight. He didn’t have it in him to attempt any sort of finesse. He soaked in the sounds of Patrick’s pleasure, sharp gasps.</p><p>“Yes,” Patrick answered, “god, David, I-” He bit his lip, gaze following the movement of David’s hand as he stroked his cock. </p><p>“Are you imagining it’s my hand on you?” David asked. Patrick moaned, fine red lines following the scrape of his nails as he raked them over his own chest. “I would make it so good for you, honey.” Patrick’s breath punched out of him. David would grow a whole fucking garden on his skin if Patrick let him.</p><p>“I want you, fuck, David,” Patrick groaned in response, hand speeding up on his cock.</p><p>“That’s it,” David said, “touch yourself for me.”</p><p>Patrick laughed, “this is going to be over embarrassingly quick if you keep talking like that.” David didn’t know if he would get this again. He considered drawing it out, ringing as much pleasure as he could out of the time they had. But he’s spent most of the night on the edge already. They’d done enough waiting.</p><p>“I want to watch you come,” David said. Patrick’s eyes fluttered ass he arched into his hand. He threw his head back and almost immediately changed his mind, turning back to David. “God, you’re gorgeous,” David said, “making the prettiest sounds.”</p><p>“David,” Patrick grunted, spilling over his fist. He tensed, toes curling. The muscles in his thighs flexed as he arched into the sensation. Patrick wiped his hand off on his stomach, sinking into the mattress to watch David stroke himself with half lidded eyes. David came soon after, orgasm coiling through him, hot and bright. </p><p>Patrick cleared his throat, “um, do you want to?” He nodded toward the bathroom.</p><p>“Go ahead,” David said. He wasn’t sure he could move yet. “There are washcloths in the cabinet,” David called after him. </p><p>“Thanks,” Patrick called back through the door.</p><p> David turned his head, closing his eyes against the cool leather of Jake’s armchair. He listened to the water running and tried desperately not to think about how gone he was on Patrick Brewer. </p><p>David came out of the bathroom in his boxers, glancing up to find Patrick had done the same. His arms were wound around his knees, breathing in shallow drags. <em>regrets?</em></p><p>“Patrick?” David moved to sit on bed, “what’s wrong?”</p><p>“Touch me,” Patrick whispered, eyes shiny in the low glow of the lamplight. David’s heart stopped.</p><p>“Are you sure?” he asked. He fidgeted with his rings, hands firmly in his lap. If there was a moment momentous enough to leave a soulmark, it was this. Or any moment after, and - if he were being honest - probably a lot before. </p><p>Patrick nodded, shoulders squaring, “David, I need to know.”</p><p>"Okay," David didn’t need a mark to confirm what he already knew, what he had known since the first day they met. He set a hand on Patrick’s knee and thin black lines curled away from his fingertips. Even without color, there was no ambiguity in it. He was Patrick’s soulmate.</p><p>“David,” Patrick’s voice cracked as drank the bloom. A cornflower, the distinctive spray of flowers circled one another. <em> Returned love.  </em></p><p>"Patrick, come here," David opened his arms, holding him as he shook against his chest. Patrick tilted his head up to kiss him, messy and desperate. David curled a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in, “I’ve got you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Flower Language:<br/>Cornflower (Bachelor's Button) - returned love</p><p>Chapter three is written and will be posted tomorrow. I always welcome feedback or ideas. Let me know if there's anything else you'd like to see out of this series.<br/>Thank you very much for reading!!<br/>❤️ Sunset</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Olive Branch, Ivy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>David paced the worn carpet of Alexis’ motel room. The walls were troublingly thin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie’s voice carried, low and seething, “don’t fucking touch him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rachel, Patrick’s fiance. David’s head was still spinning, dizzy with the word.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Fiance. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Blood rushed in his ears. He sunk to sit at the foot of the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” David tipped his head back. A few months. She had been texting Patrick for the past few months. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door swung open, Stevie and Patrick poured into the room. Patrick wrapped his arms around himself as she locked it behind them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David,” Patrick choked out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to talk about this,” David’s stomach churned, sick with betrayal. He didn’t trust himself to say much more right now. Also, he hadn’t gotten a chance to eat and David was well aware he didn’t handle emotions well on a good day, let alone on an empty stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick lowered himself to perch on the edge of the mattress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie sat on his other side, bringing one knee up to her chest as she turned to look at him, “explain.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, um, Rachel and I were engaged, but I called it off before I moved here," Patrick hurried to explain, words crashing into each other, "we got together when we were in high school, and we've been on and off ever since.” His brow creased the way he did when he was fighting their budget, trying to make the numbers fit where he already knew they wouldn’t, “I don't know, we always just sorta fell back into it. Anyway, she's been reaching out and expecting us to get back together-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you didn't think to tell me about this?” David asked, jumping up to pace again. He felt restless, tension itching beneath his skin. David turned to face Patrick as he followed him across the room, “You stood in front of me and told me to trust people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Patrick's shoulders slumped. And David. David wanted to comfort him, make everything okay again. Fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was perfectly fine not trusting people. Not trusting people is what I'm used to. It is my comfort zone. And this-” David gestured between the three of them “-doesn’t work if we can’t be honest with each other.” Stevie let out a wet sniff, scrubbing at the corner of her eyes with her flannel. She moved to glare out the window, arms crossed over her chest. “You told me that I have nothing to worry about.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn't want it to affect what we have. Okay?” Patrick glanced back at her, “And I mean it when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about. 'Cause no matter how hard I tried with her, it just never felt right. And up until recently, I didn't understand why.” He took a step forward, arm falling to his side before it could make contact. “David, I've spent most of my life not knowing what right was supposed to feel like, and then I met you. And everything changed. You make me feel right, David.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick sounded contrite and desperate. He said exactly the right things. He always did. Before Schitt's Creek - and Stevie, and even Patrick - it would've been enough to have </span>
  <em>
    <span>David </span>
  </em>
  <span>apologizing</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nausea turned his stomach, fear that he could so easily fall back into old patterns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard anyone say,” David blinked at the ceiling, the image of the two people he loved most in the world a watery blur, “Um, outside of the Downton Christmas Special.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t make it okay, Patrick,” Stevie said, voice rough through her tears. He shrunk back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David met his eyes, “I think I need some time with this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should leave now,” Stevie’s voice shook. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick swallowed, “Alright.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David let him go. He stayed curled beneath their unwashed bed sheets for two days until Stevie dragged him from the apartment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David,” Stevie rolled over to face him in the dark. They were wide awake, the foreign sounds of the hotel pressing around them, “this is a mistake.” She sounded measured and insistent. David could picture her practicing the words. He hated when she was gentle with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He lied,” David protested, but it sounded weak to his own ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie laughed, a harsh, rough sound that made him want to hold them both in his arms, “oh, like you've never fucked up when you were scared?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David had quite literally run away, stole Rolands truck and left her behind for three days while he waited for someone to find him on an Amish farm. His chest shook with the force of his next breath. Hurt and longing reverberated through his lungs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, David,” Stevie’s face softened, “It’s okay to forgive him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tomorrow,” David promised, burying his face in her hair, “I’ll forgive him tomorrow.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neither of them got much sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick didn’t look like he believed him, expression tight and withdrawn as he labeled the hand creams. David dropped the broom, uncaring as it clattered to the floor, and moved to stand on the other side of the counter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He met Patrick’s eyes, searching, willing him to see the messy, complicated wanting written over his face, “can I touch you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think,” Patrick’s voice cracked, “David, I know I messed up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s fists bunched, restless in the air, “do you trust me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt, rolling it up to his elbow. David lay his hand over Patrick’s forearm; an olive branch etched into his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David,” he leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together, “I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” David curled a hand around the back of Patrick’s neck, “you’re done apologising.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick turned his head to meet David’s mouth, safety and belonging in the warmth of his hands as they found their home on David’s waist.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>"Patrick," David called. He lifted his head, curls mused and skewed to the side. He yawned, wiping the sleep from his eyes as they focused on where Patrick still sat at the table, "come to bed."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In a minute,” Patrick said softly. Stevie could sleep through almost anything, but she had the earliest shift tomorrow morning. With Cabaret rehearsals in full swing, they were all exhausted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“M’kay,” David grumbled. He halfheartedly tossed the end of the duvet over Stevie’s feet, before settling back against Patrick’s pillow. He insisted it was the best one, despite the fact that they’d bought them as a set. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick made sure to save the progress he had made before closing out their budget spreadsheet. It would be tight for a little while, but they could make it work. Patrick scanned the email one more time, double checking that he had the measurements right before sending it off.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lifted the edge of the blanket and curled up on his side of the bed. David rolled over, moulding himself along Patrick’s back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love you,” he murmured against Patrick’s throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you,” Patrick’s breath evened out with the movement of David’s chest, legs tangled together, his bare skin pressed against theirs. Patrick never thought he’d feel this, the rightness that bloomed in his chest when he was in David’s arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick’s thumb brushed over his knuckles. Stevie had given him her blessing; a trail of ivy wrapped from the base of his spine over the curve of his hip. He would propose as soon as he got confirmation from the jeweler. </span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Flower Language:<br/>Olive Branch - peace, reconciliation<br/>Ivy - eternity, fidelity, strong affectionate attachment</p>
<p>Thank you very much for reading!<br/>❤ Sunset</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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